


Will You Stay?

by muscatmusic18



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Nightmares, PTSD, do i care?, do they go from 0 to 60 in 1310 words?, no, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 02:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21331093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muscatmusic18/pseuds/muscatmusic18
Summary: When Peggy has a nightmare, Angie's always there to comfort her.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli
Comments: 2
Kudos: 90





	Will You Stay?

**Author's Note:**

> I had to write a short story for my Spanish class, so I figured why not write fanfic, and then why not translate it and post it?

It’s too much. It’s dark and cold and loud in the alley, and there might be someone following her but she’s not sure, there’s too much stimulation for her to be sure.

She keeps walking, pushing through whatever is surrounding her. Maybe if she keeps going, she’ll calm down.

She doesn’t. The dark feels like it’s closing in around her. It’s getting harder to move, and there’s definitely someone following her, and they’re gaining, but she can’t move, can’t see, can’t breathe.

She reaches for her gun, but it’s not strapped to her hip anymore. She doesn’t know where she lost it. Someone grabs her wrist, and she screams.

She woke up, panting.

She’s in bed, not in an alley.

She’s alone, not being followed.

She’s can breathe, she’s not suffocating.

It was a nightmare, it wasn’t real.

There’s a knock on her door and she jumps, a small whimper escaping her throat. She remembers the dark alley, the person following her, the way she couldn’t move, like she was paralyzed.

“Peggy, are you okay? I heard you scream.”

Peggy lets out a sigh of relief. It’s Angie, her roommate.

Her door opens, and Angie steps in, her brow wrinkled in concern. “English?”

She sits up, hoping the fear squeezing her chest doesn’t show in her eyes. “I’m alright, Angie.” She glanced at the clock. It’s two a.m. “I’m sorry I woke you, I know you have to get up early for an audition.”

‘Don’t worry about me, Peg.” Angie closes the door behind her and walks over to the bed. “Move,” she murmurs, affectionally nudging her shoulder.

Peggy makes room for her and Angie sits down, propping herself up with some pillows.

Peggy doesn’t know what to do. Angie has woken her up from nightmares before, usually when she’s fallen asleep on files at her desk (they seem to happen more then), but Angie usually wakes her up, guides her to bed and then leaves. She’s never stayed before.

They’re silent for a while. Angie’s waiting for Peggy to say something, and Peggy doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know what Angie wants to hear.

“My brother was in the war, too, and my mom says that even though he came back, he brought nightmares back with him.”

Peggy sighs, but doesn’t say anything. The same nightmares came back with her too, they came back with everyone who was in the war. It wasn’t often that the nightmares woke her up screaming now, but some nights are worse than others.

“What was it like over there?”

No one has ever asked her that question before. When they find out that she’s a veteran, they dance around the topic. If they’re nice, they say, “thank you for your service”, but then they never bring it up again. Assume that she’s too fragile. Maybe she is.

“It was cold. Our gear is thick, so when you’re moving it’s fine, but a lot of the time we were lying in wait. I spent a lot of time shivering.”

“You’d think the government would get better gear for our troops.”

Peggy shrugs again. Nothing she could do about it now, not at two a.m., not when the panic from her nightmare is still clutching her chest.

As though Angie could sense her panic, she grabs her hand and squeezes. “Why don’t we lay down?”

They lay down, facing one another, Angie’s fingers still laced with hers, and she does feel better. Her chest is getting lighter, her eyes heavier, but she doesn’t want to go to sleep yet. The nightmare is still too real.

Peggy meets Angie’s eyes, searching them. For what, she doesn’t know, but maybe she’ll learn what her question is if she looks long enough.

Angie’s hand, the one not holding Peggy’s, reaches up and traces the scars on her shoulder, the ones the size of bullet holes. Peggy has never talked about them, but it’s not hard to figure out what they are.

“How much did these hurt?”

“A lot.” More than anything she’d ever experienced before. The memory of the pain came back, and she rolls her shoulder as though that could shake the thought away. “Though probably not as much as the guy next to me. He didn’t make it out of that one.”

Angie doesn’t flinch like she expected her to. She simply nods, once, and then shifts closer to Peggy, their faces inches away. “What was his name?”

“Ben. He was a good man.”

Peggy feels better, finally talking about her time in the war. In her experience, talking about what she did in the war and what she does now gets those she loves killed, and if she did anything to every harm Angie, she couldn’t live with herself. But here, in the still of the night, Angie listened. And she was still here. Still alive.

Angie’s gentle fingers on her cheek startles her out of her thoughts. “I can feel you slipping away again. Back to the nightmares.”

Peggy smiles softly. “It’s easy to slip back into them.” She covers Angie’s hand with her own. “Though you help to keep me grounded, darling.”

Had Peggy been more aware, she would have seen the blush on Angie’s cheeks, and the way it spread down her neck to her chest. But in the moment, all Peggy could think about was how safe she feels with Angie. How she feels like she’ll never have a bad night again as long as Angie was there with her. How her chest feels light whenever Angie walks into a room, and how she feels happy when Angie is with her, an emotion she’d given up on long ago. How she’s felt the fluttering of something in her heart from the day she met Angie, and how those flutterings have continued to grow, no matter what she’s done to stop them.

And how those flutterings might just be love.

Peggy untangles her hands from Angie’s and cups her face, stroking her thumb along the blonde’s cheekbone. She watchs Angie’s eyes flit down to her lips before meeting her gaze again, those blue eyes so hopeful that Peggy’s breathe caught in her throat.

“Angie,” she whispers, asking so many questions in the simple breath of a word.

“English, please,” Angie responds, every question answered, and more.

Peggy leans in slowly, giving Angie time to back away if she wanted, but suddenly Angie’s lips are on hers and it feels so pure, so sweet, so _right_ that Peggy wondered why they hadn’t done this earlier.

Peggy pulls, away, so overcome with emotion that she needs to breathe for a moment. “Angie, I…”

Angie’s expression crumbles just a bit. “Peg, if this isn’t what you want, it’s okay, I’m not—”

Peggy kisses her again, deeper this time, more desperate. She’s realizing she needs Angie like she needs air, and she can’t stand the thought of Angie not knowing this.

They break apart, both panting a bit, and Peggy kisses her quickly once again before speaking. “Angie, I think I love you.”

The smile that breaks out on Angie’s face is dazzling, and Peggy thinks that everything she’s gone through was worth it for this moment. “English, I think I love you too.”

Peggy reaches down and grabs Angie’s hands, intertwining their fingers. She pulls them to her chest, and Angie moves even closer until their bodies are flush with one another, and Peggy hasn’t felt this safe or this calm in years.

“Angie?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay here with me?”

The question holds so much behind it. It holds the future, the possibilities of what could come. It’s the question of if Angie would be there, that night, and perhaps forever.

Angie just smiles, smoothing back a piece of hair from Peggy’s face. “Your bed is much more comfortable than mine, anyways.”

**Author's Note:**

> This writing style is a bit different that what I usually do, so tell me what you think!


End file.
